Chapter 93: Sell White Oil

White Oil received a relatively reliable offer.

"Surprisingly, it's Goldman? Are they planning to divide the spoils?" William White thought with ill intentions.

"Fulton, the price is our decision. We refuse to negotiate. I want cash only."

"Young Master, should we investigate who the buyer is?"

"No need, haha, it can't possibly be the Hunter family. They can't play anymore and don't have the time to play."

William White was just curious but didn't intend to dig further. Since the buyer wasn't revealing themselves, they clearly had their own plans.

"Boss, they've replied. No haggling, cash."

"Tsk tsk, didn't they ask on whose behalf?"

"No, they replied very quickly. The offer is valid for a week."

"Hmm. Then let's close the deal quickly and pay them cash so as not to disappoint our customer."

Oil prices were high at that time, making it a pretty decent income. William White didn't want to keep these industries and preferred to exit as early as possible.

Oil had only a few good years left and would soon face a prolonged slump. Losing money was a high possibility, so it was best to sell it off.

...

White Films' charity fund unveiling attracted widespread attention from the industry, with the bigwigs of Los Angeles coming to join the show.

"Mr. White, I'm a reporter from the Washington Post. How do you ensure the reasonable use of the fund?" Once he finished speaking, the Washington reporter posed the first challenge.

"Hmm, that's a very good question. The fund's accounts are open to the public, and all media are welcome to monitor it. You can trace where every dollar goes."

The reporters below were in an uproar. They knew quite well what a charity fund was supposed to be, yet this guy seemed different, showing solid evidence!

"Mr. White, it's reported that your movie made over a 100 million in profits. Is such a large donation for tax considerations?"

"Your question is very unfriendly and can easily be misunderstood. I refuse to answer."

Everyone knew this guy had a personality, but unexpectedly, he addressed the question directly with hostility.

When the scene turned awkward, the host hurriedly maintained order, but William White looked quite calm, not showing a trace of irritation.

"Mr. White, I'm a reporter from the Wall Street Journal. There's a rumor that White Films gained at least 200 million in profits. Can you confirm that?"

"Ha, you said it yourself, it's a rumor. As of now, certainly not. Once the follow-up margins are added, it might be around 300 million. I'm quite satisfied with that. There's one thing I must clarify; all these earnings have been taxed, including today's charity fund."

As everyone knew, this portion could be tax-exempt, with significant tax deduction benefits. Yet, what did they just hear?

"Calm down, calm down. It was just a minor mistake by the accounting staff. We're making amends. You can verify with the tax department. But fear not, their taxation power is formidable. I wouldn't dare to challenge them."

A group of reporters below now felt some sympathy for the previous reporter. If the newspaper didn't offer an apology, the public might question them.

Was this premeditated?

Looking at the composed gentleman on stage, the reporters all broke into a sweat. All he did was set traps.

Accountants' mistake? Paying more tax?

"Mr. White, I'm a reporter from the San Francisco Chronicle. How do you plan to use this huge sum of money?"

"Huge sum? It's not too much, is it? I don't have much concept of wealth. My farm produces a lot. I rarely use money. For me, money might just be a number. I'll surely use these numbers to create something cool, or maybe buy some big toys. You know, making money isn't very difficult for me."

The reporters below were all dumbfounded. Could you brag a little more?

What do you mean by it's just a number?

...

No matter if others were satisfied or not, William White was very happy. The reporters, beaten down repeatedly, simply didn't know how to write their articles, their minds completely muddled.

There really wasn't much to say; they had to help with the praise because this wasn't something you could criticize.

Twenty million dollars was no small number. This required a dedicated team to manage. As long as it wasn't a public charitable fund, usually, there weren't too strict requirements. It was just a game for the rich.

In such types of press conferences, they were mainly full of praise. There wouldn't be substantial topics discussed there.

...

Though Afghanistan was occupied, the Soviets weren't having a great time either. The international community's overwhelming condemnation suddenly turned them into global enemies.

The tense world situation quickly drove up the price of gold. As of today, gold had broken through $800 per ounce.

Faced with rampant inflation, central banks worldwide started tightening liquidity. Short-term US dollar lending rates had exceeded 20%.

What a ridiculous interest rate!

William White didn't understand which traditional industry had such a profit margin. Instead of producing unsellable products, it would be better to buy relevant treasury bonds, where the profits were at least more guaranteed.

"Fulton, have London short gold immediately. Use sixty million in the short term."

"Alright, young master, I'll instruct them to place the orders right away."

...

The US market had closed by now, and the London market had thirty minutes left until closing. Though London's and New York's gold markets were not the same, their differences were limited, and their linkage effect was very significant.

The London trading market was still slightly inferior to the US, though it seemed to have gotten better recently as the Americans started to become unreasonable, even restricting trades unexpectedly, which was absurd.

In just five minutes, a large amount of sell orders suddenly poured in, though each wasn't big, they were very determined.

"Tom, any news in the market today?"

"Nope, Andy, have you heard anything?"

"For crying out loud, how come there are so many sell orders? It's not like they are unloading at a high, is this suppressing the gold price?"

"Don't be silly, how can they suppress it when we don't even know who the Soviets will hit next?"

William White's approach was direct and crude; gold couldn't jump any higher. The entire world was recovering money, and banks were unwilling to lend. Against this backdrop, gold had played its part.

*****

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